


Passions That Collide in Me

by EdosianOrchids901



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Holodecks/Holosuites, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 10:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18233525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: Spy games in the holosuite take an intimate turn. After all, it's a genre convention to sleep with enemy agents.





	Passions That Collide in Me

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue prompt from Tumblr: "Don't move"

Garak slipped from the secret passage into the most ghastly room he’d ever seen. Shimmering coral drapes cascaded over windows. Preposterous fluffy tassels adorned the burnt orange bedspread. And, perhaps worst of all, gold accents glittered on practically everything.

The abominable décor provided a sharp contrast with the man lounging within. Julian reclined on the bed, martini in hand, shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his left collarbone.

“Ah, my dear Mr. Garak,” he said, sitting up. “You escaped the Russians after all.”

“Barely, my dear Agent Bashir. On the run from my own people again!” These maudlin fantasies occasionally mirrored real life too much for his taste, but Julian enjoyed them. And being hunted by “his own people” aside, these programs provided a welcome escape from work.

Julian set his drink aside and stood. His open shirt shifted a touch more to the side. “How did they know you were working with me?”

“I doubt it was truly a surprise to them. After all, spies are everywhere. We likely have several watching each of us.” At least, that was how it was on Cardassia. These programs rarely wandered close to reality, but it was a reasonable enough answer to keep up the game. “What do you suppose your superiors think about us?”

The doctor—or agent, in this case—undid another button as he approached. A sly smile played on his lips, and he brushed his hand against Garak’s jaw. “If they are watching, perhaps we should give them a bit of a show.”

“Oh?”

Julian prowled behind him. “Don’t move,” he murmured against Garak’s ear.

Hot breath tickled Garak’s neck ridges, and light kisses pressed to the sensitive tissue. Gentle nips followed, first down one side and then the other.

Ridiculous program or not, this was certainly a good use of an afternoon. Far better than arguing with customers about hem length or poor color choices. Garak closed his eyes and leaned back into the contact with a hum.

“I told you not to move.” Julian nipped harder at Garak’s neck ridge, then soothed the area with a kiss.

“Why? Are there explosive pressure plates hidden in the floor?” Not unlikely in this sort of program, as a matter of fact. “Or am I simply in the only spot invulnerable to sniper fire?”

“You talk too much.”

“I merely—” A kiss silenced his rebuttal. This time he remained still, as much as he wanted to cup Julian’s face.

A slight tug at his throat, and his bowtie slid free. Next came his jacket. Cool air touched his chest, his stomach.

Julian undid the last few buttons and stroked Garak’s side scales. “No explosives or sniper fire. In case you were still wondering.”

“How kind.”

“As far as I know, this room is completely safe.”

Garak snorted. Safe was such a relative term. “Yes, as evidenced by the secret passageway leading to the Russian embassy.”

“Well, aside from that.”

“If I can find it, so can they.”

“Still talking too much.” Julian knelt and nuzzled against Garak’s groin. “I’ll have to find some way to distract you.”

“You’re well on your way to distracting me, my dear.” Garak swallowed hard, his throat dry.

What a tease his doctor could be! Julian still hadn’t removed Garak’s pants, instead running light strokes over the fabric. He slipped two fingers between Garak’s legs and stroked the length of his seam.

Garak squeezed his eyes shut harder. Julian certainly knew his way around after their years of dating. He pressed on a particularly sensitive spot, and Garak whimpered.

“Let’s relieve you of this unnecessary clothing,” Julian said, working at the closures with deft fingers. He tugged Garak’s pants and undergarments down and pressed a kiss to the slick scales. “Mmm, lovely.”

“Lovely, am I?” Garak’s voice came out almost strained.

Julian nudged Garak’s legs further apart and skimmed his fingers over delicate ridges. “Do you want to lie down, or are you comfortable here for now?”

Comfortable was a bit of a stretch—Garak’s legs went weak whenever Julian touched him. But this was an invigorating change of pace. “Here is fine for now.”

The doctor wasted no further words. He pressed his fingers to Garak’s seam until the soft scales parted, then caressed the interior walls. Working his hand in a rocking motion, he pushed up until he found Garak’s as-yet uneverted cock.

He stroked the tip and then trailed his fingers back down to Garak’s entrance. Slick lubrication trickled down Garak’s thighs.

Sometimes a slow pace could be nice, but they did both have work to get back to. And only so much time on their holosuite rental. Garak rocked his weight in encouragement, and Julian grasped his hip. “Stop that.”

Garak growled and stilled himself. In reward for good behavior, Julian thrust his fingers up again.

Then his tongue lapped at Garak’s seam, and Garak’s legs buckled. Staying still took every bit of his not-inconsiderable self-control. Pleasure burned through him, his cock pulsing with the need for freedom. “Julian,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Not yet.” Julian stroked the inside of his sheath, tongue dancing between sensitive scales. Just when Garak thought he might explode, the doctor cupped his opening. “Now.”

With a soft noise of relief, Garak let himself slide out into Julian’s waiting hand. A few quick strokes down his length drew a moan. “That’s lovely, my dear.”

“Good. Back up two steps.”

Ah, the wall. The firmness was a welcome sensation against his back, especially considering the way Julian immediately went to work. Each of his touches sent a shiver of delight through Garak.

A warm mouth enveloped Garak’s cock, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed himself against the wall for support. Julian braced a hand against his hip to keep him still and brought the other back to Garak’s seam.

Fingers and tongue coaxed, tugged, and pressed. Garak’s legs went even weaker. Breaking the order not to move, he combed his hand through Julian’s wavy hair.

Instead of chastising him this time, Julian dipped fingers inside Garak’s sheath and circled his base. With his tongue, he teased the delicate ridges that ran the length of Garak’s cock. Then he sucked—hard—and Garak lost all control.

“Oh, my dear…oh yes, that’s…you’re quite good at…” Even had he wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped babbling. “Mmm, yes, Julian…just like that, just…”

Julian’s fingers thrust up just as he lapped at one of Garak’s most sensitive spots. Shuddering waves crashed over Garak, waves of bliss and pleasure and gratitude.

When he could breathe and think again, he opened his eyes. Julian still knelt before him, delicately licking away the last of Garak’s come. “That was…remarkable,” Garak managed. “Who’d have thought you could still surprise me after all this time?”

After a final lick, Julian drew back and smiled. “Gotta have some surprises. I am a secret agent, after all.”

“Yes, well.” Garak petted his hair. “Bed now, or shall we remain here?”

Amusement flickered in Julian’s eyes, and he finally removed his own pants. “Are you sure you’re strong enough for more? You’re looking a little feeble at the moment.”

His legs still shook, but that was hardly a deterrent. “Quite strong enough.”

“All right, then. Here.”

Julian wound a hand in Garak’s hair and melded their lips. Shifting closer, he positioned his erection at Garak’s sheath and slowly entered him.

The sensitive tissues quivered with joy and Garak let out a shuddering moan against his lover’s mouth. He braced himself more securely against the wall, and Julian began to move.

Challenging position or not, this was exquisite. He tilted his head back, exposing his throat to Julian’s kisses and nips. With a moan, he raked his fingers through Julian’s hair and pulled him closer.

Julian responded by increasing his speed. No longer languid in his movements, he thrust faster, plunged deeper.

Clutching at him, Garak drove his hips forward. His purse throbbed with a pleasant sort of pain, a satisfying soreness. He widened his stance and ran a hand across Julian’s rear. “Enjoying yourself? I know I am,” he whispered, breathless.

“God, stop talking.” Julian’s voice came out as half growl, half whimper. He crushed their mouths together in a temporary battle for dominance.

Garak responded in kind, kissing him deeply and then drawing back. “Make me.”

He might have regretted that with anyone else, but never with Julian. Julian, considerate as ever, gently kissed his cheek before pinning him against the wall with renewed vigor.

The dear boy was certainly up to the challenge. He grasped Garak’s neck ridge and kneaded, sending sparks of bliss throughout Garak’s body. Between that and the passionate, rapid thrusts into his almost-overstimulated sheath, Garak lost all ability to speak.

Gasping, he captured Julian’s mouth for another kiss. He clutched him closer, tighter, eyes squeezed shut in delight as the doctor stiffened against him. Shudders washed over Julian, his fluids mingling with Garak’s lubrication.

They stood, still joined, breathing hard. Garak pressed several light kisses to Julian’s jaw and cheek. “That was well played, Agent Bashir.”

“Thank you, Agent Garak.” Julian groaned and pulled out, keeping a hard braced against the wall. “God, that was a hell of a workout.”

“I suspect we’ll both be quite sore later.”

Julian chuckled and then grimaced. “Oh. I’ve just remembered that this program…well…”

Garak perked up. Whatever was he talking about? “This program what?”

“Well, it…” The dear boy gave a sharp sigh and combed damp hair off his brow. “Normally, it’s a, um, holographic spy here.”

“And?”

Bright red flushed his cheeks. “After the spy and I sleep together, Falcon’s henchmen show up.”

_He can’t be serious._ Garak stared at him for a moment. “That’s a poor design, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, that’s kind of the point. It’s supposed to be an inconvenient—”

A resounding crash sounded across the room, and the door ripped free of the hinges. Garak and Julian scrambled for their clothes. Henchmen. Why was it always henchmen?

“I’ll, um, reprogram it next time,” Julian muttered.

“Yes, but for now…” Garak seized his hand and dragged him across the room. “Secret passage?”

“Secret passage.”


End file.
